Michael
From the top of the stairs, I shoot two men dead as they burst through my penthouse door.
“They’re swarming us!” Antony shouts behind me.
No s**t. More are flooding in, rifles raised. We retreat instinctively, letting them take the lower floor. Jose fires back at the doorway while I kick a guy in the chest so hard he crashes into his own team. It gives us just enough time for Jose to finish them off.
Antony and I roll behind one of the living room couches. Jose and Fernando leap over the bar. The entire place is under siege—my front door is blown in, and Jericho Brown’s crew is crawling through my home like rats in a corpse.
“To your left!” Antony warns.
I react on instinct. I drive a blade into flesh without even looking. When I yank it out of the man’s neck, warm blood spra
